


smoke and mirrors

by rubyroth



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Gen, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9343250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyroth/pseuds/rubyroth
Summary: An assortment of unedited, Lusamine-centric ficlets from tumblr





	1. two of swords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lusamine is sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Late morning sun was spilling through the windows of the Cerulean City townhouse by the time Lusamine awoke. A quick glance at the clock on her nightstand incited a string of mumbled curses. No, she didn't have any time-sensitive plans, but she only found her most productive self in the small hours before dawn. On top of those missed hours – and the time she'd need to look presentable, if only to satisfy herself; she was still _tired_.

She hadn't been up before dawn in weeks. Dreamless oblivion and deep exhaustion had become a familiar companions.

Stumbling around her bedroom in an effort of complete her morning routine, she took a moment to pause in front of the vanity. She pulled open the drawer. Carefully, she set aside its contents and pried off its false bottom, revealing a Beast Ball.

She held the ball in her hand, thumb ghosting over the button. Yes, Nihilego's neurotoxin had compromised her thoughts, allowing her id to run rampant and lay waste to her life, but oh how she missed the endless energy and inspiration, the days filled with joyous research and answers flowing through her like electricity through a circuit.

Now that she knew the full range of symptoms, surely she could work around them. Surely she could mitigate the risks and regain her lost time.

Her thumb ghosted over the button again. And again, but with a hint of pressure.

With a sigh, she placed the ball back into the drawer.


	2. mirror match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lusamine takes umbrage with her reflection and ignores some obvious symbolism. Loosely related to "two of swords".

The Cerulean City townhouse, an almost-forgotten property of her father's, came furnished with a vanity too new to be considered antique, but old enough to be out of style. Time had not been kind to it, the years peeling back white paint to expose the cheap wood underneath and clouding the mirror with a layer of grime. It stood out against the modern furniture (far more befitting to Lusamine's tastes) filling the rest of the house, a relic of a previous and inconsiderate tenant.

And that damn tenant had possessed the nerve to leave it languishing in the master bedroom, positioned so she'd catch her reflection during her lucid moments.

 

The first time she's both alone and awake was over a week since arriving in Kanto – from her limited perception, Lillie had hardly left her side, though Lusamine couldn't tell if it was out of genuine love or deep mistrust. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she noticed a flicker of movement and – oh. It was just her reflection.

She cast off the blankets and slipped out of bed. A little unsteady on her feet, she approached the vanity. A quick wipe of a spare towel created a section of clean glass, just large enough to view her face.

How dreadful, this woman in the mirror! Everything about her – her bearing; her sallow skin; her jaundice tinged eyes; even her limp and tangled hair – bespoke of sickness and age.

Lusamine pinched the bridge of her nose. So did the woman in the mirror. Intellectually, she knew they were one and the same, and no one looked the same as their best self until the application of cosmetics. But she'd never seen herself looking so…pathetic. Like an ill and declawed Meowth.

Enough. No use dwelling on a problem with an obvious solution. A quick wash, a brush, and her makeup kit would dispel that wretched creature.

But every morning, the woman in the mirror would return.


	3. offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting between Lusamine and Professor Burnet. Pre-Canon, Burnet POV, hints of a Lusamine/Burnet crakship because I cannot resist smashing two scientists together, no matter how ludicrous the pairing is.

Burnet resists fussing with her outfit as an employee leads her through the halls of Aether Paradise, trying not to catch her reflection in the gleaming white tiles. She's heard a lot about the president of the Aether Foundation, the elusive and enigmatic Lusamine. Some of it of true, some of it hearsay, none of it explaining why the woman had called her directly, asking to meet with her.

The employee gestures to a door and lets her in. It’s an office, just as stark and gleaming as the rest of the Aether Paradise. And at its center sits–oh my.

Lusamine smiles. "Professor Burnet, it's a pleasure to meet you. Come, take a seat." She gestures to the chair in front of her desk.

Only habit and quick reflexes forces the requisite response out of Burnet's mouth as she sits down. It's one thing, to see pictures and know the rumors, but to see Lusamine with her own eyes…Lusamine's beautiful, like a ethereal daydream forged in flesh and bone.

The conversation starts light, just discussion on Burnet's published research, Lusamine proving her knowledge with each probing question and insightful comment. Burnet almost relaxes.

"As much as I love talking with you, this meeting is for business." She takes a crisp sheet of paper from her desk drawer and slides it forward. "And I am looking to improve my staff."

Burnet takes the paper. Skims it. Her jaw nearly drops. Not even the best research institutions were willing to pay that much! There's no way this doesn't come with massive, looming strings attached. "I'm sorry. I'm currently with the Dimensional Research Lab." Yet, despite the unease deep in her gut, she can't outright refuse Lusamine's verdant gaze. "But I'll…I'll consider it."


	4. sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble prompt from tumblr user newageretrovirus: "Undergrad Lusamine and Wicke cram for a biochem exam together (or maybe it's organic chem they're studying for, at any rate they're pulling an all nighter)."
> 
> So have Wicke, Lusamine, and the start of a beautiful relationship. Is it romantic? Eh, the author's dead ship as you will.

The big rec room table had become a battleground of binders and flashcards. Their commander, one student Wicke, sat ready to – oh who was she kidding. She'd never be ready for the bio midterm tomorrow! Even if her other classes had prevented her from studying during the rest of the week, all the knowledge just drained away from her head the moment she sad down to take a test. Tears welled up at the corner of her eyes. The midterm was worth a good chunk of her grade, and she couldn't afford to fail.  
  
"Excuse me. It's Wicke, yes? Do you mind if I join you?"  
  
She looked up. Before her stood an imposing blonde with a white thermos in one hand and a thick binder in the other.  
  
Oh.  
  
Oh no.  
  
It was _Lusamine_. That girl from her class who just last week chewed out a post-bacc for his "startling ineptitude and crude manners". Who swept the monthly Pokemon battle tournament, dethroning the head of the computer science department. Who was already building a university-wide reputation for herself despite being freshman like Wicke.  
  
And Lusamine knew her name. And was speaking to her!  
  
"Uh, sure." She hastily rearranged her study materials. "I mean, I don’t mind!"  
  
Lusamine smiled politely then carefully laid her thermos and binder before sitting down. "Thank you. Normally, I wouldn't intrude, but tonight I found all my usual spots to be compromised. And" – an expression Wicke couldn’t catch flashed across her face – "I take it you're also studying for the bio midterm. Maybe we can help each other."

"I’m…" She looked away. "I’m not sure if I’d be able to help."  
  
"Nonsense." Wicke startled at Lusamine’s confident tone. In her green eyes, Wicke could only see complete sincerity. "I’ve seen how well you perform experiments in lab and your diligent note taking. My own notes are serviceable for major concepts, but not the details."  
  
Before Wicke could soak in the knowledge that Lusamine had remembered her (of all people!), Lusamine was asking questions on Thursday's lecture.

  
  
It was a long night, but Lusamine was well versed in the art of an all nighter (of course she was). At a little after six, Wicke felt tired, but not the overwhelming exhaustion she'd expected. And she actually felt prepared – something in Lusamine's explanations had stuck in her head far better than the professor's.  
  
Lusamine stood up and stretched. "Now for the best part."  
  
"There's a best part?"  
  
"My father says it’s the recovery." She smiled. A genuine smile, saved for private moments, just for Wicke. "But I disagree. Come on, I'll show you."  
  
"Okay, let me just – " Lusamine's hand was pulling hers and Wicke couldn't help but follow. "What about our stuff?"  
  
“It’ll be there when we get back.” Her statement had no room for argument.  
  
They don't go very far, just out of the dorm and into one of many, small gardens on campus. It was still dark out. And silent: none of the chatty wild Pokemon on campus were up yet.  
  
Softly, almost reverent, as if Lusamine feared her voice could ruin the moment, she whispered, "We're just in time."  
  
Light gleamed just at the edge of the horizon. Together, they watched the sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not mentioned: Wicke gets an A on the midterm.


	5. rebuilding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble prompt from tumblr user notzilon: "Lusamine trying to make amends with her children post-Ultra Space. Bonus for going into the person she used to be prior to her breakdowns?"
> 
> I went a bit off prompt; this is mostly post-canon Lusamine in Kanto stewing in her feelings while her children have adventures.
> 
> Present tense this time because why not.

Lusamine does not hear from Lillie. No. That’s not true. Now and then she'll receive a postcard with the most cursory of greetings, but no letters or phone calls. No detailed updates on her daughter's Kanto journey.

Resentment, her most familiar companion, boils within her. How dare Lillie betray and abandon her again! But that line of thinking only leads to misery, so she catches up on her reading, tends to the townhouse's windowsill planters, tries to remember what she did in her downtime besides research and experiments, and refrains from writing back.

* * *

One morning, she receives a letter from Gladion, its contents succinct: he is taking her money and using it to fund his travels to Sinnoh. 

She can't find the meaning in the space between the words, the reasoning in his actions, the _why_ behind the paper she holds in her hands, but it counts as him reaching out to her, right? Etiquette (and the small hope threatening to bloom in her chest) demands she compose a response.

Before the sun sets, she drops off her letter at the post office. Her desk is littered with failed attempts and false starts.

To her surprise, Gladion writes back with two sheets worth of safe topics: his travels, Wicke's administration of the Aether Foundation, Professor Kukui's latest research paper. The tone's distant, something better suited for acquaintances than family, and Lusamine can sense deliberate omissions in his travelogue. Still, it's _something_. 

It's more than she deserves.

* * *

_These days, I find myself recalling a conversation we had back in university_ , she writes to Wicke. _We were sophomores, I think, and finals were just around the corner. We were talking about plans for winter break, which lead to a discussion on family. I remember you said, "The best relationship a child can have with their parents is a long distance one."_

_I disagreed at the time – you know how well I got along with my father and I knew very little about your own parents – but now…_

* * *

She enjoys her continued correspondence with Gladion. She hates it, too.

Every day in which she receives a new envelope in her mailbox is joyous. Gladion intersperses his vivid descriptions of locations and noteworthy battles with throwaway yet personal details: he has gained a fondness for spicy food; he has a sewing kit to patch up his own clothing, though said kit is a garish neon pink; more often than not, he is up early enough to watch the sunrise.

Every time she sits down to pen a response is a war. 

Snarling resentment, aching desperation, the remaining vestiges of genuine motherly concern: these parts of her all demand a share of ink, to be seen and read. And Lusamine must edit and omit and edit and omit until the letter is safe enough to send.

And nothing from Lillie.

* * *

Lusamine almost doesn’t recognize the girl standing at the threshold of the townhouse. Her blond hair is brutally short, as if she'd shaved it all off and it was only now growing back. Shallow, half-healed cuts mar her face. Her nose is red with the beginnings of a sunburn. A Gengar and a Kantonian Marowak flank her, both giving Lusamine wary, suspicious looks.

But, without a doubt, the girl standing at the threshold is her daughter.

"I'm back," Lillie says.

And Lusamine pulls her into a hug.


End file.
